Love and Mortality
by thebestIcan
Summary: "This day, the next, a hundred years, it's nothing! It's a heartbeat. You'll never be ready." In Thor: The Dark World, Loki says these words to Thor about his love for Jane. Thor thinks he is being prejudiced. Loki is speaking from experience. (Starts Pre-Thor, all pairings past-tense.)
1. Prologue

Standard disclaimer applies; I do not own the Marvel character Loki Odinson or Thor Comics.

Author's notes: This is based on a prompt (see below) and is set Pre-Thor (2011). Includes death of original characters and children (non-graphic).

* * *

 _Prompt: "_ This day, the next, a _hundred years_ , it's nothing! It's a heartbeat. _You_ ' _ll never be ready_."

In Thor: The Dark World, Loki says these words to Thor about his love for Jane. Thor thinks he is being racist. Loki is speaking from experience.

Love and Mortality  


thebestIcan

Prologue

The wind and drizzle becomes heavy and the roses on the casket begin to flatten under the weight. The large drops of water roll along the polished mahogany and brass and into the grave below. The service had ended hours ago and the reception was probably done by now. The priest had left. The rest of the crowd gone but for two figures standing next to casket.

The older woman reaches out to the young man, grasping his elbow and pulling gently. He does not budge, unfocused green eyes still fixed on the casket. He shows no sign of having noticed her tugging, her attempts to catch his attention. The woman tucks her coat closer to herself and leans in, changing tactics.

"Liam? Sweetheart? I think we should go back to the apartment."

The man blinks slowly, as if in a trance, but again shows no sign of noticing. The woman puts her hand on his shoulder, shaking it slighting. He turns to her slowly and she gives him a sad smile when he meets her eyes. She is holding back her own tears and takes a shaky breath before speaking.

"Please Sweetheart, we should go back to the apartment. Grace will want to see you."

The man stares at her. The mention of his Mother-in-Law seems to shift something and he finally focuses. He looks back at the casket, his jaw clenched and his eyes suddenly steel.

"I think I'll stay here a while longer. Send my apologies and love to Grace, would you?"

The woman doesn't speak again, but nods. She leans up, places a gentle kiss on a high cheekbone and walks away.

Loki Odinson watches her go before stepping up to casket, laying his hand on the cold, wet wood. He has done this before. Many times. Too many times. He knows the blissful numbness he feels now will end. The cool exterior would crack, the carefully constructed mask would shatter, and white fire rage would burst out. He would go on a bender, a self-loathing spree in which he will do all he can to destroy himself until the tidal wave of grief puts the flames out and he drowns.

It happened every time.

Ami Reid had been his twelfth wife. His nineteenth lover. The fifth mother of his children. Many thought that the Trickster was too cold, too distant. But his problem was just the opposite. He cared so intensely that it was masochistic.

Since being a small child, much to the chagrin of his father, Loki had taken great pleasure in sneaking along the paths between worlds to his beloved Midgard. He would watch the creatures that lived there with fascination; running with horses, swimming with the whales. But Loki loved the humans the most.

With them he would stay for days, months or years. Frigga knew that it was just her beloved son's curiosity getting the better of him. She cautioned but encouraged his activities, seeing the passion in his eyes as he talked of their customs and languages, their beliefs and myths. He found the ones about the family particularly amusing. Odin thought that Loki's activities were deviant and unseemly, the humans a child race. Loki had vehemently disagreed.

In many ways they were like Asgardians, more so than any Asgardian would admit, but they had a thirst for life that was unique and contagious. He would walk among them, sometimes in his own form, sometimes in disguise. He'd been a peasant, a farmer, a military nurse, a veterinarian, a factory worker. He'd been to battle and balls. He'd sired and birthed children. He'd held them, weeping, as they died.

He had met Ami in 2006 in the Art History section of the Vancouver Public Library. She was brilliant. They all were. Loki had been living under the guise of Liam O'Neill, a British-born librarian working there for a little over a month. She'd come up to him looking very overwhelmed with a stack of books obscuring most of her face, desperately trying to find some lost Monet book. Despite himself, he'd been taken right there.

Loki slipped back to Asgard to tell a disgruntled Odin that he would be gone for a while before rushing back to pick Ami up for their first date. She was fierce and smart, stubborn and incredibly kind. Even Frigga had liked her, but cautioned him. 'She's only human.' He didn't care, he never did. Ami would make him laugh until he choked and he would watch her paint for hours. They moved in together six months later. They married when she finished art school after another two years.

She had wanted children, and though he knew that one day it would cause him more pain, he couldn't deny her. Ami was pregnant on the first try and Loki couldn't help but get swept up in the excitement. They picked names and he read to her swelling stomach from stacks of books that littered their little apartment.

Loki had been pulling the kettle off the stove when he heard the knock on the door. The police officer said that a drunk driver jumped the barrier into oncoming traffic, colliding with Ami's tiny Corolla and crushing its front end. On the way to the hospital, he learned she'd lost their son at the scene. When he got there, he learned that he'd missed her last breath by six minutes.

He'd never lost his whole family at once before, and it tore through him. Frigga, by her incredible powers of Sight or some divine motherly instinct, arrived at the hospital shortly later. She picked her sobbing son off the floor, taken him to the now empty apartment and held him as he wept himself to sleep.

The next day, Frigga told him that she had come with news. Thor would succeed Odin on the throne. His absences from Asgard meant missing important events, and though Loki was well educated in political matters as a prince should be, Odin felt he simply wouldn't be able to catch up. His father's condolences had been added almost as an afterthought.

Neither were able to attend the funeral. Political preparations for the shift in leadership in Asgard meant that the All-Mother and All-Father were unavailable to leave the realm, despite Loki's begging. Thor had not even known Ami's name. His wife and child had been mortal, so naturally they had not cared. To his birth family, they are not people. They were not loved ones that Loki would gladly follow into death. They were seen as nothing more than pets, or playthings that Loki kept himself amused with. To them, they did not matter.

Loki's hand clenches to a fist on the casket, his wedding ring digging almost painfully against his palm. His teeth are clenched and his shoulders hunched, a deep growling emitting from his chest. Their names flash before his eyes, their faces and laughter. That tearing feeling returned and he screams.

 _Ami, Baby William, Julia, Raj-_

They all mattered, each and every one of them! Ami mattered! Their son mattered! Fury boiling over, Loki turns, grabbing a nearby chair left from the funeral and hurtling it over nearby headstones. He keeps going, kicking at the chairs and shouting in Norse. He punches a nearby headstone, knuckles splitting and he hears a shout behind him.

 _-Baby Emily, Ross, James-_

Someone grabs him from behind, dragging him back from the headstone. A voice threatens the police if he doesn't calm down. His breathing is ragged and he struggles against the hold on him, but doesn't lash out. Over the pouring rain he hears some sort of broken sound like a wounded animal and when he feels the hot tears roll down his cheeks he realizes it is his sobs.

 _-Embla, Baby Rose, Baby Heather, Lucas-_

The arms on him tighten for a minute and release. He briefly registers the words of the groundskeeper, saying he's sorry for Loki's loss and for him not to hurt himself. Silence, then footsteps and he is alone again. It is then that he realizes that he is kneeling in the mud next to his wife and child's grave. He looks up at the casket through his soaking hair, eyes overflowing with grief.

He thinks of going back to their apartment, of facing her family. He thinks of the pictures they had tacked everywhere that will only serve as painful reminders. He thinks of how her side of the bed will be empty again tonight. He thinks of the empty nursery. He will not do this anymore.

He cannot do this anymore.

He spends a few more moments on the ground before his sobs die to whimpers and his whimpers to the occasional hiccup. Sniffling, he pulls himself up out of the mud, not bothering to wipe off the smears of it, and stumbles to the casket. He rests his palms and forehead on the casket, whispers a prayer that Ami and Baby William's spirits be taken to Valhalla despite being mortal, and straightens.

Loki considers leaving his wedding band behind on her casket as he had always done. He reaches into his pocket and can feel Ami's own rings on a chain, another thing he'd always done. But this time he decides against it. He pulls her set out, slips his band onto the chain, and slips it over his neck; As reminder.

Love and mortality only cause pain.

Loki takes one last loving look at his wife and son before steeling himself and turning away. He will not come back to Midgard. He will not love again. With each step the god adds to the ice around his heart.

And jagged pieces to his plan.


	2. One

Author's Notes: As you can see, I've decided to continue this into a full work. It will follow the Marvel Cinematic Universe, but will draw upon elements of the comics and Norse mythology. There will be three chapters, set for Thor, The Avengers, and Thor: The Dark World. Updates will be weekly.

This fiction contains death of original characters. All pairings are past tense.

* * *

Love and Mortality

thebestIcan

One

The council room better resembled the war chambers as delegates and state officials threw scrolls and bellowed. Ink wells were overturned as someone slams a fist down on a table. No one can hear what another person is saying over themselves and the whole meeting has gone to shambles.

Loki sits quietly to the side, a headache causing a frown to pinch his face. He cannot believe he came back to this. He rubs his temples and forces the tense muscles in his jaw to relax. He cannot seem overly aggressive; it would only serve to undo things. So he takes a few deep breaths and looks up, surveying the room with a careful eye.

Odin All-Father had recently announced that he was finally bringing his Golden Reign to an end, and that his eldest son Thor would take his place. The Kingdom of Asgard had expected no different; after all, he was the eldest, he held the power of Mjolnir, and he had been well trained. Loki, the younger prince, would act as Thor's Royal Councillor and second-in-power, third only to a Queen should Thor marry. This was the most logical way to ensure peace in the realm.

However changes in reign meant that treaties, tariffs, and other such items were up for re-writing. And that meant that everyone was trying to get the biggest piece of the pie. If each and every move is not carefully spoken, Asgard could find itself at war, not only within itself but all along Yggdrasil. Things were already very shaky with Muspellheim, and Jotunheim is worse.

Today, minor state matters were being dealt with. It was like being in a room full of children. Only Loki had seen children who were much better behaved than this. If this didn't stop soon, it would only end in civil war.

Standing, Loki puts two fingers between his lips and a piercing whistle brings the shouting to a stop. He calmly drops his hand and folds it with the other behind his back.

"Gentlemen, this bickering is getting us nowhere. Anaheim!"

The man snaps to attention, pushing past others to come to the front. Loki continues.

"The offer you have given us is more than fair. We accept all except for the offer for grain."

The man's blue eyes widen and he straightens, looking calmly over to his competitor. He sneers before turning back to Loki. Loki silently has to remind himself to play this little game a while longer before he can escape. Anaheim speaks in a haughty tone.

"Your Highness, why all but the grain? Surely it would best to just accept all?"

Loki shakes his head and looks to Anaheim's competitor, a slender man with hardly a wisp of hair. Anaheim is greedy in all things, evident by his jeweled hands resting on his bulging waist. Ask is a humble village leader who lives a life of simple means to better his state, which is in genuine need. Loki considers it a no-brainer.

"The treaty with Ask's state still has four years left to run its course. If we agree to your offer we will not be able to supply enough grain to the state to meet the treaty. They have had little success with crops and I fear without the treaty to fall back on they will not survive the coming winter. So tell me; would you have me condemn them to starve?"

Loki takes a step forward and pins Anaheim under his gaze. He is not threatening, but he makes it clear that he will not let the man go until he gets an answer. Anaheim looks to Ask, sweat beading his brow before he looks back to the Prince.

"No, sir!"

Loki immediately gives the man a good natured smile and pat on the shoulder.

"Good! Now, I think we could all use a recess!"

There are nods and groans of relief and the men shuffle out of the council room to the great hall. Loki watches them filter out a moment before he deflates, slumping into a nearby chair and resting his head on his arms. Another long day in the council rooms and this was still morning. Treaties were annoying, but they were nothing; he'd been handling small state disagreements for years now. It was part of his training should he take the throne. Well, if he had taken the thrown.

He hears footsteps and looks up to see Thor lingering in the doorway, some sugary baked good in one hand and a cup of something hot in the other.

"Brother! Are you well?"

Loki nods and straightens, giving him a small smile.

"Yes Thor, just tired. Is there something that you need?"

Thor shakes his head and steps forward. Loki is thinking how he really doesn't have the energy for Thor at the moment when the blond places the baked good and the cup in front of Loki; a bribe?

"You did not come to breakfast this morning."

He feels a small wave of quilt as his brother sits across from him and continued.

"I figured you'd avoid the crowds so I came to you."

That is very much Loki. He picks up the cup, mildly surprised to find his favorite tea, and takes a sip. Thor continues.

"I wanted to discuss something with you. About Lysa."

Ah, so the pastry is a bribe. Loki knew this couldn't be good. Lysa was a small village that had recently been looted several times by the nearby larger city. Loki didn't want to get involved. He knew that typically in these situations, a few people held a grudge and were acting out. They'd be caught by local law enforcement in due time, anyway. By getting involved it would only show favoritism.

Lysa was well connected as a trade village. Everyone who had something to trade went to Lysa, therefore everyone should want it protected. However, if Asgard's Royal Army stepped in, it could show favoritism over all other major trade cities. Forget breaking treaties, this would cause a civil war overnight.

"I believe it may be a good idea to send a few of the guards to assist them."

"No."

Thor's eyes widen and already Loki can see the fight coming.

"What have you against protecting them?"

"Has anyone been hurt or mistreated in any fashion in the previous incidents?"

"No, but-"

"Then if they haven't escalated by now, they will most likely not and fade out in time."

Thor huffs and straightens in his seat. Loki takes a sip of his tea and relishes in the small moment of silence. The blond shakes his head.

"You would not feel this way if they were your precious mortals!"

The cup whizzes past Thor's head and shatters on the wall behind him with a spray of tea. When surprise fades Thor turns to see Loki standing, fists clenched in rage.

"Don't you dare claim that I am disloyal to this realm just because I once also claimed loyalty to another!"

Thor's eyes are wide as he regards his brother. He has only on a handful of occasions seen him this upset. His shoulders are hunched, breath ragged and his teeth bared. His eyes flash and Thor realizes he has tread upon a sore spot. He attempts to back pedal, hands in front of him defensively as he speaks soft and slow.

"I shouldn't have spoken of them that way…"

Loki fights to control his emotions. Betrayal, overwhelming grief, rage, frustration, exhaustion, rage, grief again, rage, rage, rage… _Thor shouldn't be on the throne._

The thought startles Loki and he looks back up at his brother. Thor is just as startled by his gaze and the two stare each other up and down. The blond is careless, impulsive and spiteful. He would spit words that would lead to a war to which he'd gladly rush into for honor and glory. If he was not careful, Thor would turn this kingdom into ashes.

And Thor was anything but careful.

Loki takes one long look at his brother again before sitting, breathing steadily through his nose and trying to calm his pounding heart. Thor watches him like a pinned animal for a minute before the pale fists uncurl themselves. Then he continues.

"I apologize."

The words sound hollow in Loki's ears. He does not want Thor's sympathy. He does not want to hear his apologies. He doesn't want to be stuck in this room dealing with treaties and preparing for his brother's coronation. He ignores everything his brother has said and goes back to the matter at hand. Maybe then he can be left alone to some peace.

"If you send in guards you send the message to all other trade posts that they are expected to compete."

"And so they should."

The absurdity of what Thor was saying made Loki's head spin.

"If you make them compete it could send them into chaos!"

"Or not."

"Thor, come now, I-"

"KNOW YOUR PLACE!"

The bellow silences Loki and this time it is his turn to feel pinned. He can distantly hear the roll of thunder across the grounds and it makes him shrink. He'd never been told by Thor to know his place before. Odin had told him several times, but never Thor. The betrayal slices through his chest like a hot knife. This time Thor does not back down.

"You wander this castle moping like a kicked dog, snapping and making demands on everyone! Your participation in anything that Father asks of you is lackluster at best! Even Mother wonders what has gotten into you!"

Loki flinches, glancing up at his brother who stands towering over him. The thunder outside rolls and the younger prince shivers. He thinks on Thor's words and a familiar throb runs across his chest. _I've just lost my wife and child, damn you! That's what's gotten into me!_

But Thor barrels on, unaware of the damage he is causing. And Loki just sits there, stunned into silence by his brother's tirade.

"You are supposed to be my council at this time! I'm supposed to be able to trust you beyond all others! No wonder Father didn't think you'd be able to handle the throne! You are a prince, Loki! Start acting like it!"

With one last crash of thunder Thor turns on his heel and walks out of the chamber. Outside the skies would clear somewhat but remain cloudy the rest of the day. Loki sits still stunned into place a moment more, eyes wide and staring at where his brother had stood. He snaps out of his trance, blinking and finding he is not at all surprised when the white fire rage comes back along with his clarity.

He stands, straightens his attire and marches out to the great hall where the rest of the officials are still mingling. Loki grabs himself a tankard of ale, morning be damned, and takes a swig. After taking a moment to steady himself he calls over one of the ever-present guards, dropping his voice so no one else will hear.

"Thor demands twenty and five men be sent to Lysa on horseback. Stop the looting at all costs."

* * *

The weeks leading up to the coronation had been precarious at best. A shift of power meant strains in relationships between states and even realms that was inevitable. But Thor's rise to power seemed to be cursed far more than any other potential king's.

Civil war had broken out after one of the Royal Guards found evidence that the sheriff of Lysa had been smuggling people into the city, fully aware that they would raid and loot. Since then uprisings had sprung up of people demanding that the government be cleaned of crooked officials. While war with Muspellheim had barely been avoided, but relations still remained ever tense with Jotunheim. There were whispers of doubt of Thor's readiness for the throne. Still, the coronation approached and suddenly arrived.

The palace was scrubbed, polished, and adorned in red and silver, Thor's colors. Kings of other realms arrived, some days earlier and others just now. The walls practically hummed with activity. The ceremony will start momentarily. Today was a beacon of light.

In the shadows of this beacon stood a lone figure, a portal to an icy landscape stretched in front of him between his hands like a shimmering scroll. A face entered the landscape, royal blue and larger than average. Lines marked the face elegantly, making it seem more pointed and longer than it was. Red eyes focused on the figure.

"Everything is ready?"

Loki smirked and gave a nod, not looking away from those sanguine eyes.

"Yes. Unless one of us has been less than truthful, Jotunheim will rise."

* * *

Odin has banished Thor to Midgard, a place Loki once would happily have escaped to, and Asgard is on the brink of war with Jotunheim. Frandral will survive his wounds, in no small part thanks to Loki, and Volstagg was nursing severe frostbite. As usual, Sif and the Warriors Three were ungrateful for his going to the guards before they had left. But they would not be standing here to berate him had he not. So with a growl, he turns and leaves.

He does not go to healers, or to his mother but to his chambers, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him. He strips his armor, then his leathers and shirt, sliding his hands across pale skin in panic and shock. He sees no trace of blue, safe for what is blossoming with purple into bruises. He sees no lines. When he walks to the mirror his eyes are the same green they have always been. He doesn't understand.

Only a Frost Giant could survive another Frost Giant's touch. And here he was, unharmed.

He tries to think of the moment the Frost Giant grabbed him, trying to simulate that moment for the change to occur but his skin stayed stubbornly white. He was sure what he had seen. He was not going mad!

Or was he? Had he finally snapped? Or was he really a monster?

The word seems to work its way around his brain for a few moments and after a beat he lets it slip.

"Monster."

It feels heavy on his tongue. He looks down at his hands, noting how they shake. He pulls his shirt back on and makes his way to the Armory. The last time he changed he had been touched by a Frost Giant. Maybe something from that realm…

He is not called 'Silver tongue' for nothing, and in no time he has sweet talked his way past the guard. He approaches the Casket of Winters reluctantly, needing to know but not wanting to.

His hands wrap around the handles at either end and he hoists it up. It's heavier than it looks and he feels like he must protect this object at all costs, like an instinct. He tightens his grip on it and it is then that he notices his hands are no longer that pale alabaster. Odin's voice behind him makes him still. He closes his eyes, dizzy at this new revelation and hoping it will end when he opens his eyes.

"Am I cursed?"

It is a childish idea, but it is better than the obvious truth. He feels the hope dash from his chest before the word is spoken.

"No."

"What am I?"

There is a brief moment when everything is quiet and Loki thinks that for once Odin will be open with him.

"You are my son."

He sets the casket down and opens his eyes. His hands are blue, the back of them lined with heritage markings familiar to him. Which were they? Bigger questions push the thought to the side and he turns to face his 'father,' the receding chill telling him his pallor was returning to normal.

"What more than that?"

He listens horrified as Odin accounts to him the day he was taken from Jotunheim, Laufey's son, brought back to unite the kingdoms later through his bond with Thor. He is light-headed, and nearly sick, and can't catch his breath. Everything in his life is a lie! He is Jotun! He is a monster! Odin's words cut through the din in his mind.

"You're my son… I only wanted to protect you from the truth."

Loki looks up in disbelief, anger starting to twist his features.

"What because I… I… I am the monster that parents tell their children about at night?"

Odin is backing away, eyes drooping and it is obvious the Odinsleep will overtake him. Loki persists, unable to let this go. Unable to just admit that _he was the monster he told his children about at night._

"You know, it all makes sense now, why you favored Thor all these years, because no matter how much you claim to love me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!"

Odin fully collapses and silence falls over the Armory. Still he has no more answers than when he arrived. After a moment Loki panics. This man may not be his birth father, but he did raise him. This had not been his intention, to stress the old man into the Odin sleep. Guilt wars with anger a moment before winning out. He calls for the guards, stepping out of their way and with a backward glance to the Casket, followed them to the healers.

* * *

" _Mama?"_

 _Romi's eyes peak open. It's the middle of the night, judging by the moonlight filtering through the hut window onto the floor beside the bed. The air is warm but the breeze is cool. Her son is leaning against the bed, one thumb in his mouth. The young mother lifts her head and shifts closer to the edge, dropping her voice so as not to wake her husband beside her._

" _Jas, what are you doing up? It's late, love."_

 _The young boy doesn't answer but rubs his eyes before climbing up into the bed next to his mother. Suddenly Romi finds herself pinned between Raj, arm snaked around her waist, and her son in her arms. If she wasn't half asleep she would take a mental still of the moment, but as it is she pushes her hair back, brings the blankets around the boy and snuggles back in._

" _Mama? Tell me about the Ice Giants."_

" _Frost Giants, love."_

" _Tell me!"_

 _Romi smiled despite herself. She reached up to smooth her sons hair, patting him on the shoulder._

" _Alright, alright. Patience. There was a race of giants whose bodies were made of ice so cold they could freeze a man solid with a single touch! They were tall and blue, with claws and blood-red eyes."_

 _The boy's eyes were already beginning to droop; Romi rubbed her hands through the boy's hair some more, make her voice softer as she spoke._

" _One day, the king of the Frost Giants decided to go to war with Earth and his army invaded, threatening to kill everything in its path."_

" _Even children?"_

 _Romi blinked and looked down at her son. His big brown eyes shone with innocence and fear. Realizing her mistake, she wrapped her son tighter._

" _Don't worry, love. Remember how the story goes?"_

 _Jas nods, tucking his face back into his mother's neck and mumbling as he closed his eyes._

" _The Golden King arrives."_

" _That's right. The Golden King arrives and his army wipes out the Frost Giants, and the world is saved."_

 _The boy's breathing is easy now and Romi rests her hand on her child's back, counting his breaths and letting them lull her to sleep._

Loki wakes from the memory, body slick with a chilled sweat. The next day he visits Thor in New Mexico.

* * *

Loki stares in shock as Thor smashes the Bifrost repeatedly, Mjolnir slicing though it and fracturing it. How could he? He will never reach his love again. How could he just walk away like it is nothing?

"What are you doing? If you destroy the bridge, you'll never see her again!"

It is a sacrifice he himself could not make. He watched as Thor effortlessly gave his last chance to see the woman he loved to save an entire race. But it is too late for this. Jotunheim must perish. He must finish destroying the realm. He had so much blood on his hands to begin with but he must prove himself to Odin.

He stands, running to Thor with his staff raised when the Bifrost gives with an explosion. He is tossed around like a piece of paper on the wind and he clamps his eyes shut against the blinding light. He is unsure of which way is up and his ears ring. He feels something by his hand and grabs onto it, groaning as he his arm snags from the force. When he opens his eyes, Odin's gold one meets them.

"Father!"

Thor is holding on to Gungnir, Loki at its other end, and Odin holding on to Thor. It is precarious and the energy of the Observatory destroying itself has the three of them swaying off the edge of the Bifrost. Loki looks around him, shocked at how he seems to have found himself at death's doorstep, but not at all scared. Nervous, yes, but not scared. He looks up to Odin again.

"I could have done it, Father! I could have done it! For you! For all of us!"

Odin's eye narrows. Already Loki can feel his grip loosening. Thor sees it because he tightens his grip on his end, frantically trying to hold on. Odin speaks.

"No, Loki."

The expression of anger fades from Loki's features and instead a brief look of peace replaces it. Loki knows now that he will never belong. Odin is not his father. Thor is not his brother. And Frigga… Thor realizes his intent as his brother lets his fingers go limp.

"Loki, no… NO!"

Gungnir slips from Loki's grasp and he is falling. He watches their faces disappear, their voices echoing behind the rushing of air around him. Tears streak his cheeks and his hair whips around his face. His clothes tear around him and he is falling faster and faster. He closes his eyes and thinks of his families. He thinks of seeing them again. He smiles.

This is not death. This is salvation.

Bring on the nothingness.


	3. Two

Author's notes: This chapter follows The Avenger's MCU timeline. As per both the comics and Norse legend, Loki is a gender fluid character with an undefined sexual orientation. Don't like, don't read.

Warnings: This chapter contains description of psychological torture and mental illness. Some parts may be triggering for readers. This chapter also contains graphic description of injury consistent with getting your ass Hulk-smashed into the goddamn floor. Language warnings apply.

* * *

Love and Mortality

thebestIcan

Two

The Void was beyond any form of torture the dungeons of Asgard could imagine; and they were quite creative. The vacuum, the feeling of it pulling at him, was worse than waterboarding. He hears silence so piercing it makes him scream, but still he hears nothing. He cannot tell if his eyes are open or closed, not that it would matter. The ghosts come either way.

Thor appears to him the most. His brother shakes his head and looks at him as if he is ashamed of him. As if he is some lost cause that he must protect and drag back home. For the most part Loki ignores him. When Odin appears with a disappointed look in his eye, he ignores him as well.

Frigga he at least takes the time to talk to. She looks sadly at him, like she can't understand how her sweet little boy has turned into… this. He asks her if she is proud. He asks if she wished Odin had left him on that barren rock all those years ago. He asks her if she loves her monster. She just stares at him with tears in her eyes.

The first time he sees Ami, he is stunned into silence. She is wearing what she had on the last day, Baby William stretching her stomach and making her more beautiful than she ever had been. He clamps his eyes shut for a second before opening them like he can't believe she's here, he's finally with his family! He almost weeps for joy when she raises her hand to point at him. He frowns as she opens her mouth to speak, but there is no sound. Loki can't understand what her lips are saying.

"Ami? Darling, I can't hear you!"

She speaks silently again, her hand still raised and pointed. He shakes his head, not understanding before she fades away. This was not supposed to happen. Tears streak his cheeks and he calls after her, begging her not to leave him again. He screams her name until he is hoarse.

Baby Emily visits him next. Emily is his daughter from when he was an ironworker in late nineteenth century France. She stands still, her blue eyes peering up at him through her red curls and a pout on her freckled face. Emily hugs the porcelain doll he gave her to her chest. When he tries to talk to her she becomes shy and pouts, hiding behind the doll like she did with strangers. It breaks his heart. This wasn't how it's supposed to be! He sobs that she is a good girl and that he loves her long after she fades away.

Raj and Jas visit. They seem confused. How is this Raj's beloved wife? Jas' mother? This was a lie. This was a monster. He cries as Jas turns away from him, voicelessly begging for his mother. Loki sobs that 'it's okay, that Mama's right here,' but he can't shift to Romi's form and he growls in frustration that the glamour won't work. Raj turns way in disgust and Jas silently screams for his mother.

Each member of his family visits and each time it adds to the scars. All without making a sound.

When the Chitauri find him he is all but a shaking and sobbing mess, begging the ghosts to leave him be. They give him food, water and rest. When they bring him to a being that calls himself The Other, Loki is more than a little confused and compliant. The Other is humanoid in shape, but certainly not a man. He claims loyalty to Thanos.

Thanos is powerful; the magic Loki surrounds himself shrinks in comparison to the aura he gives off. He carried a glowing sceptre that seemed to influence the minds of those around him. Still weak, tired and a little apathetic, Loki found himself on the wrong end of the sceptre.

All physical pain is removed. It is like all the burdens he did not know he was carrying had been lifted. Warmth spreads across his body that leaves his muscles relaxed and heavy feeling. A fog settles over his mind. It is like being drugged. His heart rate slows and he sighs. Under heavy lids, Loki's eyes glow blue.

"I need something from Midgard."

The sceptre draws pleasant memories of the realm forward in Loki's mind. He sees the tumbling ridges of the Rocky Mountains that he and Ami used to hike. The smell of pine and cedarwood is heady and he can feel the early mountain mist on his face. Then she is in her little hut, the smell of cooking naan hovering in the air as she prepared her family's dinner. Then he hears the birds in the garden as he works. It is hard to think, like his head is full of cotton. _Yes, Midgard. I know Midgard._

A picture of a glowing blue cube centres its way into his mind and he thinks briefly that it is pretty, in an odd AI sort of way. He feels tremendous power from where the sceptre touches his forehead to the very tips of his toes and somehow he knows it is from the cube. It is unnatural and disturbing and it excites him.

"Bring it to me."

At once the fog is lifted and his mind is flooded with images, blueprints and plans. He feels as though his head might explode. Loki had always been up-to-date on things like the customs, fashion, technology and lingo if Midgard because of his stays there. But this went way beyond that. He knew things that no civilian, no life he has ever lived, should know. He knows military schematics and the codes to half the missiles on the Western Coast. He knows the chemical composition of every lethal gas stored in every armory. He knows the names and ranks of every high level official of S.H.I.E.L.D., Hydra… And isn't it funny that more than a few overlap?

It makes his head feels as though it will split open and all he hears is white noise. When the stream of information stops, his mind feels unnaturally blank like his skull had been hollowed out. He collapses to his knees, gasping for breath as he tries to process… whatever the hell _that_ had been.

"Do you understand?"

Loki looks up at Thanos, standing over him with the sceptre still in hand. It is strange, but he finds that he does. Somehow in the flood, he is able to grasp exactly what it is that Thanos wanted of him. He nods, not able to find his voice and terrified that whatever that was will happen again. The Other grins behind him as he sees the 'god' shrink in fear.

"Good."

The sceptre is lifted again and this time it is pointed to his chest. He flinches and Thanos grins. Loki stills and the sceptre's point meets skin.

"Your reward."

 _Ross tugs him closer, arm wrapped around his shoulder and plants a kiss in his hair. He responds by snuggling further under his arm. The two are riding the U-Bahn in Berlin, smoking cheap cigarettes and drinking booze out of a paper bag._

 _Loki turns his head and presses his nose into Ross' neck, loving the smell of his skin, smoke, and soap. Ross pulls away and Loki frowns until he is drawn into a deep kiss. He can taste the tobacco and the scotch and something that is distinctly Ross. He wraps his hand in Ross' shirt and pulls him closer, heart fluttering as strong arms wrap around him. Loki feels safe._

The vision disappears as quickly as it came and Loki is back in the Void. Ross is gone and this is not Berlin. It is like waking from a dream and being pulled underwater at the same time. The air was ripped from his lungs and tears welled at his eyes. He feels cold, colder even than when he was falling, and he whimpers. He begs Thanos to do that again, whatever it was, show him Ross, please, once more, please…

But Thanos turns on his heel and walks away, handing the sceptre to his little pet. The Other grins, twirling the sceptre like a baton and stepping forward. Loki stops begging and slumps to the ground, heart in his throat and head in his hands.

* * *

" _Ahanu!"_

 _The old man looks up. His eyes crinkle as he laughs, standing with creaking bones to embrace his friend._

" _Joseph! How are you?"_

 _The younger man smiles at his elder and laughs with him, assuring him that he is well. He pulls off his hat, sash and coat before walking further into the cabin. Ahanu pats his shoulder, leaning back to look him over with a critical eye. Satisfied that his friend is in good health the elder nods._

 _The two sit back down on the blankets by the hearth and Ahanu reaches to throw another block of wood into the fire. The smell is thick and heady, and the fry bread in the skillet is almost ready. They make small talk at first, trading information about the trail and what was coming down the drive. Soon Joseph drops his voice._

" _Winter is coming, and there is a sickness."_

 _Ahanu listens, watching the embers and rubbing his knuckles. He knows, he has seen many come through his little cabin with the fever. It seems to follow the trade routes. Rough, wilderness-hardened men reduced to sweaty, whimpering children. They don't usually last long once the delirium set in._

 _He reaches over and pulls the skillet off the fire, tossing a few fry bread and some jam onto plates and handing one to his friend. Joseph takes a bite and nods his thanks. They chew in silence and watch the fire. The mood remains heavy. Ahanu sets his plate down and clasps his hands._

" _I fear that we aren't ready for what is coming, Joseph. I've seen sickness before, but I don't think anything can prepare us for this."_

* * *

It turns out that the mind of a god is surprisingly easy to break. A lifetime of tragedies, of lost loved ones and betrayals meant that physical pain was unnecessary. While a Frost Giant is durable, even more-so one as imbued with magic as Loki, it would delay plans should the god take time to heal. It was so much easier to have him reliant on them for the slightest shred of happiness.

Soon Loki was addicted to his 'rewards.' They were more than images, more lucid than dreams. What he sees surrounds him, not as if image is in his mind, but more that he is in the image. He could smell the air in his apartment/the library/the farm, feel objects in his hands. Sometimes they are big moments; V-Day in Europe, a wedding, the birth of his children. Other times they are insignificant pieces of time that meant nothing to anyone but him.

They were the only time he wasn't left alone to his own unsteady mind or being pumped full of information. Thanos put The Other in charge of his 'preparation.' The more he learns the bigger the well of guilt builds inside him. Every day another memory of Midgard is pulled forward, another reason to love the realm. Every night another list of instructions on how to destroy it is compressed into his mind. The ghosts whisper in the dark.

The memories began to change. Words weren't said that should have been, events disappear. 'I love you' turns to 'get away from me.' Memories of laughter become bickering feuds. Happy families tear themselves apart. Their deaths become morbid and cruel, and soon he sees his family as corpses. Was he ever happy on Midgard? Was he ever happy? When he asks Thanos, he simply shakes his head.

"What makes you think you were anywhere but here at all?"

Loki stops questioning the memories and questions his mind. The whispers grow louder.

* * *

When he steps through the portal, the vastness of a reality beyond the Void and the Chitauri brings him to a knee. The tentative grip he had on his mind falters and for a brief moment he considers splaying himself out on the cool concrete and just being still. But that warm, drugged feeling takes over again. The fog takes over. He has arrived on Midgard and now things will move very quickly. He cannot rest. He stands and speaks.

"Please don't. I still need that."

What happens next is a flurry of action. His body moves of its own accord and magic springs from his fingertips. He hears his voice speaking, his manners and mannerisms, but they are not his words. The fog seems to guide him effortlessly as if he was a marionette on strings. It twists him into a cruel invader, comforts him and distorts his thinking until he is a dark version of himself. In a matter of moments the Tesseract is theirs, the base has fallen, and Loki and two dozen S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are on the move.

Five hours of driving later they are held up in a bunker-turned-headquarters. Science officers are following what plans Loki is able to provide through the sceptre and tactical is doing the same. There is a small calm as they wait for the next step and Loki finds himself slumping slightly in exhaustion with the agents. He orders them to eat and rest. He steps away from them for a moment, blinking against the sleep that tugs at his eyes. He will not follow his own orders. He cannot keep food down and when he sleeps… When he sleeps, he sees… _them._

He can't see them and destroy Midgard at the same time.

Some small part of him, the rational and sane part, is beating against the fog like it is a barrier to the rest of his mind. He can see what he is doing, but cannot control it. He doesn't want to hurt people. He isn't that type of person. He'd made mistakes before. He'd realized his mistakes in the Void; Jotunheim weighed in his heart like a rock. But he didn't want to rule Midgard like some overlord. He wants to stop.

The fog won't let him. He will destroy the realm he watched grow with his bare hands, but he'll be screaming internally the entire time.

"Sir?"

Loki turns and finds an agent is staring at him. Barton. The Archer. Loki looks him over. He seems sort of like a guy Loki thinks he would play pool with on weekends and share the occasional beer. Had they met before? New Mexico seems familiar. Loki shakes his head and looks back up to unnaturally blue eyes. Guilt twists his gut and he gives Barton a small smile.

"Yes, what do you need?"

Barton looks tentative for a moment before rattling off a list of supplies, possible detours and lines of defense that would be better used elsewhere. The fog in the back of Loki's mind makes it hard to focus. He feels his lips agree and disagree as needed. He is dazed and dizzy when the conversation ends, and he pinches the bridge of his nose as the fog loosens its grip.

When he opens his eyes he sees them again, but now they glare at him. Hate, disgust and betrayal flash in their eyes. Loki swallows hard and fights to hide his anxiety. He knows that the agents cannot see them. He knows that he is losing his mind. Barton moves to step away but lingers a moment.

"Sir? Sir? Are you alright, Sir?"

The man lays a hand on Loki's shoulder and it is enough for him to focus back to the present. The hand is firm, steady with a tight grip. Fraternal in nature, the way old-seasoned battle brothers were. He doubts that Barton has even felt this close to Romanov. It startles him more than the ghosts do and he looks over to the archer. His feels a wash of guilt greater than any he has ever felt before. Aware of the CCTV and Thanos' ever present eye, Loki turns his back to the camera and in a language he knows that Barton will understand, raises his hands to sign.

"Call Laura. Tell her to get the kids and get out."

* * *

" _Try it again and I'll kick your ass!"_

 _Two figures run into the darkness down an alley. Loki is struggling to catch his breath as he leans against a brick wall, a cut on his lip and his ear ringing from when a punch connected. He has probably burst his eardrum and fractured the bones. Ross is waving around his arms and cursing the figures. When he turns Loki sees blood trickling from his broken nose._

" _Fucking homophobes."_

 _The adrenaline from the mugging wears off and Loki's hands begin to shake. He pushes himself off the wall and walks over to Ross, taking his face in his hands._

" _Your nose is broken."_

 _Ross reaches up and curses. A fresh splash of blood hits the pavement as he spits. His adrenaline high abruptly ends as pain takes over and Ross lets out a fresh string of curses._

 _Loki sighs and steps forward. Not thinking, he guides Ross to sit on the curb, ignoring his questions. He waves his hand in front of Ross's face. A crunch of bone and yet another curse, Ross is holding his set and healed nose. He wipes at the blood with the back of his hand, confused before he looks up at Loki._

" _What-?"_

 _Loki gives him a small smile. Ross stares at him, mouth open like a fish. They stare at each other for a moment before Loki sighs. He reaches up to his own lip and wipes his thumb across it, the skin unblemished after. He presses his hand to the side of his head and after a small pop, Loki can hear properly out of his left ear again. Ross still stares and it is then that he notices bruises around Ross' eye. When he reaches to heal them, Ross pulls away._

" _What the fuck!?"_

 _He has miscalculated. He thought Ross would be understanding. He was so quick to fight those two guys off when they were attacked for kissing. He can love him for being male, can't he love him for not being human? He steps back, wondering what the next few minutes will bring. Ross stands and does the same, eyes fixed on Loki like he is a dangerous animal._

 _"What the hell was that?"_

 _Loki doesn't meet his eyes when he speaks._

 _"Magic. I used magic to heal you."_

 _When he peaks up, Ross is looking at him like he has lost his mind._

" _What the hell are you?"_

 _That was not something that Loki was expecting to hear. He looks up at Ross, brow knit and fighting the dreadful feeling that fills his chest._

 _"I… I'm Loki! I'm the same person I've been this entire time…"_

" _WHAT ARE YOU?"_

 _Loki shivers at the question. He looks down at his hands, noting a small smear of Ross' blood on his thumb from when he healed him. When he answers his voice is small._

" _I'm Loki Odinson. I'm from Asgard. I'm Aesir, a race the Vikings once worshipped as gods. I'm 1432 years old and will live well past 5000…"_

 _He glances up to Ross' eyes are widening and his face is almost comical if the situation weren't so serious. Loki gulps and continues._

" _I am the third son to King Odin, ruler of Asgard. There's Baldir first, who has abdicated the throne and is estranged, and Thor. Technically, I'm a prince. I have responsibilities to the Kingdom."_

 _By now, Ross is chuckling and scratching his head like he's watching his boyfriend ramble after having too much to drink. Loki continues._

" _I like to come to Midgard- Earth- to get away from those responsibilities for a while. To be normal for a while. That's all I want, to just be with people! To just be normal!-"_

 _Ross steps forward and grabs Loki by the arms, cutting off his explanation-turned-tirade. Loki looks up at him, eyes wide and Ross speaks._

" _What else can you do?"_

 _Loki frowns at the question, but answers._

" _I can cast spells. Walk through walls, appear and disappear at will… change my face."_

 _He says this last part almost as a whisper. When he meets Ross' eyes, his heart races at finding a blank expression. The grip on his arms is tightening to be almost painful firm and he puts his hands on Ross' chest, ready to break away. They stand in silence in the dark alley like this for a few minutes._

" _What were you the god of?"_

" _What?"_

" _You said your race was worshipped as gods. So, what were you the god of?"_

 _Loki doesn't want to answer. He knows what will come next. He shouldn't have tried anything, should have just taken Ross to Urgent Care like he had any other time someone got hurt. But he didn't. Once again he will be honest, and once again they will see nothing but deceit._

" _I am the God of Mischief and Lies."_

 _Loki has told stories, woven lives around himself the way a hermit crab steps into a shell before outgrowing it and finding another. He has built disguises to aid him in this. In doing so, he has lied either directly or by omission. He does not do so maliciously, but out necessity to shield himself as he feeds his curiosity. That curiosity will cost him not only his lover, but someone he considered a truly good friend._

 _He turns to Ross, who stares at him still with the blank expression. Finally the grip loosens and Ross lets go, shoving his hands in his pockets. Loki's heart sinks. Ross regards him a moment more before looking away down the alley. He nods and gives a shrug._

" _Alright then."_

 _He turns back to Loki and holds out his hand. Loki is more than a little stunned and is slow to reach out and take it. Ross turns and pulls him down the alley like nothing ever happened, pulling out his pack of cigarettes. He takes one with a shaking hand when it is offered and smiles, relieved when Ross wraps an arm around his shoulder. The two make their way down the alley in the dark._

* * *

The conditioning almost comes undone when Thor shows up. His time in the Void and with the Chitauri and the centuries-old bond between brothers clash violently in his mind. The words the Thor in front of him speaks are different from the Thor in his mind. Did they ever play together as children? Did they run and laugh like Thor says? He struggles through the fog in his mind to remember.

"I remember a shadow… Living in the shade of your greatness."

Some small part in the back of his mind is crying in protest. No, his brother is right there! Finally, proof that he has a family, that the ghosts are real. He didn't need to do this anymore! He could send some sort of signal, give some sort of sign of what was to come.

But the fog seeps into his mind again and he loses focus. The moment is broken and green eyes shift back to blue.

* * *

Loki paces around the glass cage, trailing his fingers along the perimeter. He is calm, both because the fog in his mind is whispering that this is all part of the plan and the Avengers proximity soothing. He is not afraid of the Avengers, of what they will do to him. If anything, he would gladly trade his freedom with Thanos with his imprisonment with them. But the fog keeps that pushed to the back of his mind and sarcastic quips on the tip of his tongue.

He waits for Romanov to appear. He had felt the bond between her and Barton through the sceptre's influence on the archer and knew she would come if it meant saving her battle brother. They dance around each other like dogs set to attack. They throw verbal jibes at each other. He isn't surprised when the conversation turns to Barton. He _is_ surprised when the conversation turns to S.H.I.E.L.D. and Romanov's admission of guilt.

"It's really not that complicated. I've got red in my ledger, I'd like to wipe it out."

Something about that makes Loki unsettled, more so than usual. He regards her like a naïve child, his face twisting at the thought of an assassin struggling to make amends. He realizes he will be in the same position at the end of this. Already is.

"Can you? Can you wipe out that much red? Dreykov's daughter, Sao Paulo… the hospital fire?"

 _Laufey? Jotunheim?_ The ghosts taunt him and he struggles to keep focused on what he is saying. Even though he doesn't want to say it. Even as it pours from his mouth in a cold, calculated way the sceptre's hold seems to know will slice into Romanov. He doesn't want to see the similarities between himself and the agent in front of him.

"Barton told me everything. Your ledger is dripping, it's GUSHING red, and you think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself will change anything? This is the basest sentimentality. This is a child at prayer... PATHETIC!"

He blinks and when he opens his eyes, it is himself standing on the other side of the glass he is shouting at. He blinks again and Romanov is back. He keeps going, shaking it off.

"You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate, to have your own code. Something that makes up for the horrors. But they are a part of you, and they will never go away!"

Somehow these words slip past his lips and the sane part of him hopes she catches his meaning. She knows what S.H.I.E.L.D. is, what monsters lurk within. But she doesn't seem to notice and he continues, the fog thickening and his window of opportunity closing.

"I won't touch Barton. Not until I make him kill you!"

That gets Romanov's attention. His voice continues.

"Slowly… Intimately… In every way he knows you fear! And then he'll wake just long enough to see his good work, and when he screams, I'll split his skull! This is MY bargain, you mewling quim!"

She turns away with tears in her eyes. When she speaks he hears the disgust in her voice.

"You're a monster."

She's right, but he doesn't say so. He laughs at her reaction instead.

"Oh no, you brought the monster!"

The agent turns to him, face calm and tears gone. Loki is stunned as he watches her straighten and turn to him.

"So, Banner… That's your play."

The fog's hold falters for a moment, as if this is some sort of troubleshooting problem it hadn't yet encountered and Loki struggles to grab hold.

"… What?"

The fog tightens again and when Loki focuses on the agent, he realizes she sees his plan clear as day. There is a slight thrill at the knowledge, along with panic, and he watches as she squares herself in front of him.

"Thank you… for your cooperation."

* * *

 _The sun is bright and Jean-Luc pulls his hat down lower over his eyes to block it, focused on keeping his daughter close. Her little hand holds his and they walk along the banks of the Seine. The crowd thickens the closer they get to Champs de Mars._

" _Look, Papa! I can see the top!"_

 _Jean-Luc grins at his daughter's enthusiasm. Emily squints against the light, pulling against her father's hand. He holds on tighter, not wanting to lose her in the crowd. When they get to the park, she stops and cranes her neck, her mouth open comically as her blue eyes stare up._

" _Wow! You made that, Papa?"_

 _This earns a chuckle from him._

" _No, love. I only helped a little bit."_

 _Emily looks back up at the massive metal structure. Her red curls shine against her coat and the cold air makes her cheeks pink. She looks like the picture of innocence, like one of those cherubs he'd seen in the paintings around the city. She continues to stare in awe before she puts her little fists on her hips._

" _Well, I'm still going to say my Papa built the Eiffel Tower!"_

* * *

The next time he and Thor meet, he is standing on the top of Stark tower and watching the world be torn apart. The portal is opened and the Chitauri stream out in thousands. Fire erupts across the sky as explosions litter the skyline and New York is in a state of chaos. Over the sounds of twisting steel and crumbling rubble he hears screams.

Oh god… What has he done!?

He can barely stand and tears rim his green eyes as he surveys the chaos. The fog in his mind is thickening and he fights to keep it at bay, but it is like fighting the tide. For all he knows, his children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren are dying below and he is the cause of it.

He feels some important part deep inside himself break, green shifts to blue and the fog takes over again.

* * *

" _Loki… Get up!"_

 _He doesn't answer. He keeps his eyes closed and slowly turns his head to the voice. He is safe and warm in this room with this person. There are no expectations on him. He isn't a prince. He isn't a Frost Giant. He isn't a pawn. He is just Loki. There is no fear and no pain. He doesn't know why this is so important, but it is. He doesn't want to leave._

 _It is warm and he can feel the sun on his face. He and Ross are tucked in their little apartment in bed and Ross is drawing circles on Loki's arm with his fingers. It tickles and Loki wants to tell him to stop, but he doesn't want to ruin the moment. Instead he nuzzles his head further into the pillow like a cat and mumbles._

" _No."_

 _This earns a chuckle. He doesn't want to move. Please don't make me move. The blankets are soft and the he can hear the traffic in the street through the window and Ross is right there. He can smell coffee brewing and he knows that later they will only end up grabbing a cup and heading back to bed anyway. He rolls over and throws an arm over Ross' waist. Another chuckle._

" _Come on, Loki. Lazy Loki, Lazy Loki, get up!"_

 _He stubbornly tenses his muscles in an effort to make himself heavier. He has a grin on his face now and all pretense of him trying for sleep is over. Hands run along his muscles in order to sooth them into relaxing. It works. Ross leans closer and gentle as the summer rain, whispers._

" _Lovely Loki, get up."_

* * *

His eyes snap open and everything hurts. Every major bone in his body as fractured and his magic is already painfully stitching them back together. He can feel blood in his lungs and he coughs painfully, wishing that for once his magic would just let him die. Muscles stretch back over mangled bone and skin knits itself together. When it is over he is left gasping. He crawls out of the crater left in the ground by his body.

He doesn't know how much time has passed. He barely knows his own name. Somewhere in the back of his mind he can feel the overwhelming shame of failure. He wonders for a moment where he is and what happened. Then he sees skyline and it hits him like a freight train.

The events of the last few days play high speed in his mind. His precious Midgard reduced to ashes at his hand. He vomits.

When he has caught his breath he hears shuffling behind him and he knows that he has no fight left. It has left him with the Tesseract. He wonders if Barton will notice his eyes are green but doubts it. He will most likely be bound and chained, killed or thrown into some deep, dark pit. He doesn't relish the thought, but he doesn't deny it. He is surrounded by Thor and the Avengers, and as he stares at an arrow tip aimed between his eyes he thinks that this was a long time coming. He looks up into the now clear eyes of Barton and raises his hands in surrender.

"I think I'll have that drink now."


	4. Three

Author's notes: I am so sorry that this took so long to upload. Turns out laptops don't like it when you spill coffee on them. I worked that one out for myself.

Credit to Marvel Studios as necessary, as well as Shakespeare as necessary. If you don't know by now this follows the MCU timeline and draws from the comics and Norse mythology. Loki is a gender fluid character with an undisclosed sexual orientation. Don't like, don't read. All Loki/OC pairings are past-tense. Loki doesn't always want to get involved in big events, but sometimes trouble finds him.

Warning: This chapter includes the non-graphic death of a child. Graphic depiction of a WW2 attack.

* * *

Love and Mortality

thebestIcan

Three

 _The coughs were more frequent and beginning to sound wet. Emily's skin was flushed and practically burned to the touch, her red curls slick to her forehead with sweat. She tossed and turned as she tried to breathe. Often she would call for him even though he held her hand. She hasn't opened her eyes in two days._

 _Jean-Luc doesn't know what else to do. He'd tried every elixir he could think of, tried every spell he could find in his hidden black book. But magic and medicine could only do so much, and still she gets worse. The end will come soon and there is nothing else a god can do._

 _So he holds her when she's cold and wipes her brow when she's feverish. She's stopped eating, but he manages to get her to take some water. When she asks, he tells her about her mother, Julia, and how she would sing. When she sleeps, he sobs in relief that Julia did not survive childbirth to see her baby like this. And that pain resurfaces._

" _Papa?"_

 _Jean-Luc struggles to keep his eyes open. He hasn't slept in four days. He will not miss the passing of his child. He refuses to miss it. He looks down at Emily across his lap on his bed and smiles. Her beautiful blue eyes are open._

" _Yes, love?"_

" _Are you tired?"_

 _He digs his heel into the top of his other foot under the blankets on the bed. The pain gives him a slight jolt and he wakes up a little more. He clears his throat and adjusts the blankets around her when he sees her pale skin._

" _No, love. Just resting my eyes."_

 _They stare at each other for a few moments. Briefly he wonders if she is really seeing him or if she is staring through him. He rubs circles on her back. She watches him, unmoving except for her quick breaths. Her voice is hollow when she speaks._

" _I'm tired."_

 _He watches as her eyes close again and his hand stills. This is it. He knows it. He's seen it enough to know. Jean-Luc is wide awake now, shaking a little as he draws her gently into his arms and rests her head on his shoulder. He kisses her curls. When he speaks he is fighting to keep his tears back and his voice steady. He doesn't want to scare her._

" _It's okay, love. Close your eyes and rest."_

 _She tries to shift closer to him, but is too weak. He holds her tighter, afraid he will crush her but not able to get close enough. Adrenaline is a fickle thing. His heart pounds in his ears and he can't make his hands stop shaking. He is hyper-focused on her. She closes her eyes and tucks her face into his neck._

" _I love you, Papa. Goodnight."_

 _Always such a good girl, saying goodnight to her Papa before going to bed. He tightens his grip on her as he feels her breathing start to slow._

" _I love you, Emily. My good little girl."_

 _She doesn't open her eyes again and he stares as her turns her face upward, a smile on her face. He frowns, wondering what is happening when he realizes that she is listening for something. He strains to listen too when she whispers._

" _Papa? I can hear Mama singing…"_

 _She says no more. A few minutes later she is gone. Jean-Luc stares at his daughter in his arms, tears streaking his face. He tells that she is a good girl and that he loves her over and over again. He strokes back her curls and rocks her. He weeps himself to sleep with his little girl in his arms._

* * *

As Loki walked through the great halls of Asgard's palace, he couldn't help but think that he should be doing so to a funeral march. In childhood, he had thought these halls a magical place, that Asgard was a shining realm, and he had been naïve enough to believe he belonged. When he was in the Void, between screaming for his Midgardian families, he begged to see the palace again. But now he knows the truth.

These halls have shadows. This realm is not a golden beacon among Yggdrasil. And he was the Jotun runt son of Laufey; a puppet and scapegoat. It makes homecoming less appealing.

He contemplates pleading his case. Thor must have sensed something amiss about him. He can feel the last little vestiges of the Mind Gem in the back of his thoughts, knew that Odin's skill in Seidr would be enough to detect it. He could explain how he was practically shoved through the portal to Midgard against his will. He could explain about the fog. But half of the things he remembers he doesn't believe are true and the other half is too condemning to speak of.

And to what end? All those people were still dead. While he was able to bring the 'invasion' to a screeching, wildly unsuccessful halt (compared to the damage Thanos had planned, New York was a grazing), he still caused 1,836 deaths. The number of injured or missing quadrupled. And he still hadn't answered for Jotunheim.

He does not expect Odin to be merciful. The All-Father would assume he had sided with the Mad Titan and would toss him to the Executioner. It didn't matter that the man had raised him, claimed him to be his son. Odin still lied, still looked down at him with some unreadable look as he approaches. Is it regret? Maybe disgust? After what Loki'd done his fate would be sealed, familial loyalties be damned. His head would roll by sunset.

The Trickster squared his shoulders, dropped his chin and glared at his 'father.' Fine! If the old fool wanted him to play the villain, he would play the villain! If there was one thing that his death guaranteed, it was that he would never fall into the hands of Thanos again. And if he was very, very lucky, he would see his families.

When he reaches the bottom of the steps of Odin's throne, he clicks his heels together in mock salute. He thinks of how this feels familiar (' _Sif's hair, Baldir, Hela,'_ his mind provides) and would sort of be humorous if he wasn't about to be beheaded. His fear bubbles up as giggles and he struggles to keep his mask of nonchalance in place.

"I really don't see what all the fuss is about…"

Odin looks at him like he has just denied the realms exist. That unknown expression he had before was back and now Loki is sure it is disgust.

"Do you not truly feel the gravity of your crimes? Wherever you go there is war, ruin and death!"

Loki tries not to let that get under his skin, but it's difficult. This man may not be his blood, but he did raise him. Loki spent his childhood looking up to him, thinking he was the wisest man there was. He wanted so badly to please him. He remembers letting go of Gungnir and he has to hide his flinch at the memory. He rolls his shoulders and acts as though none of this matters, like he's late for an appointment and stuck in an annoying conversation.

"I went down to Midgard to rule the people of Earth as a benevolent God, just like you."

"We are not gods. We're born, we live, we die, just as humans do."

"Give or take five thousand years."

Their faces flash in front of his eyes again and he feels tired. They won't stop silently crying. They won't leave him alone. He picks the lesser evil and refocuses on the conversation at hand.

"All this because Loki desires a throne…"

He was a prince. Maybe not to the realm he thought, but a prince nonetheless.

"It is my birthright!"

"Your birthright was to DIE!"

Loki feels the warmth drain from his body as his 'father' shouts this at him. It is clear to him that Odin no longer sees him as his child, if he ever did. He can almost feel the ice creep around his heart as he looks up at the man, cutting all bonds with him. Odin continues.

"As a child, cast out on a frozen rock. If I had not taken you in, you would not be here now, to hate me."

Wasn't that just the best gift? Loki wanted to applaud for his efforts. 'Good job, Dad! You did the moral thing and didn't kill off an infant in cold blood!' But this was like a cat toying with a mouse before the kill and he was getting bored.

"If I am for the axe, then for mercy's sake, just swing it. It's not that I don't like our little talks, it's just… I don't love them."

"Frigga is the only reason you are alive, and you'll never see her again."

The words cut through him like a knife. His fingers curl as he fights not to run to her, to throw himself as his feet and clutch at her skirts and beg her to never leave him. He'd begged for her when he was in the Void. Solitude he'd survived once, he could grit his teeth and bear through it again. But now the news that he would never see her again leaves him speechless and cold. Odin is either unaware of how this hurts him or he does not care.

"You will spend the rest of your days in the dungeons."

Loki had not expected this. He was sure he was to be killed. This was not at all what he had planned. He glances over at his mother, her last mercy for him being his curse. Thanos would want blood for his failures. He wouldn't mind burning a few cities to do so. Death would have saved him the trip and Loki the trouble.

"And what of Thor? You'll make that witless oaf King while I rot in chains?"

"Thor must strive to undo the damage you have done. He will bring order to the Nine Realms, and then, yes, he will be King."

Loki glares at him. The old fool is working off of half-truths and speculations. He does not see as well as he used to. He wonders when the last time Odin had Scribed. If he had done so recently, he would have seen the dangers coming. If he asked Loki what he had seen in the Void, he would have known that Thanos planned to tear down Yggdrasil and claim the stones, one by one.

But there is little use in talking to Odin. So instead he stays silent and lets the guards lead him out of the hall to the dungeons. He would have to figure another way out himself.

Something wicked this way comes.

* * *

 _The doors to the hospital ward swing open with a loud crash. She is halfway through stocking the medicine carts and it isn't too busy on the ward, so she doesn't look up. She knows Betsy or Anne will take care of it._

" _LUCY!"_

 _She closes her eyes and sighs. Unless James decides he's going to scream her name across the whole ward like he's looking for his lost dog. It was bad enough that the soldiers had taken to hanging outside the hospital and flirting with the nurses all day, now they had to bug them on shift too? Didn't they have a war to win?!_

" _LUCY? WHERE ARE YOU!?"_

 _She pushes the box of antibiotics away from herself and turns, folding her arms and rolling her green doe eyes. He was always hanging around, acting like he was tough stuff as he flirts with the nurses and dodges Lucy's glare. He hadn't seen active duty yet, but he 'couldn't wait for the honor!' She is about to give him a rant on how 'this is a hospital ward, James, not a recruitment hall!' But the sight of the soldier and his burden make her stop and she rushes forward._

" _What happened?"_

 _James drags a scrawny kid forward with his arm around his shoulders. The kid looks like he is barely able to breathe._

" _There was a fight. He got hit in the ribs."_

 _She wraps the kid's free arm around her own shoulders and together she and James get him to an empty bed. The kid winces and when he looks up at her she can see his lips are starting to turn blue. He isn't getting enough oxygen. She quickly unbuttons his shirt and can see bruising along his side._

" _Get me that stethoscope!"_

 _James does as she demands, grabbing the stethoscope off a nearby tray and handing it to her. After palpating the kid's ribs gently, she listens carefully to the wheezing sounds of his breathing. The kid is looking at her with panic and pleading in his eyes. James stands back and observes._

" _I don't think the ribs are broken. But your lungs are tight."_

 _She goes to the medicine cabinet and grabs a few things, then into the kitchen. After some quick mixing and grabbing a few things from the ice chest, she comes back with a small cup of medication and a cold bottle of Coca Cola. James chuckles and the kid looks up at her as though she has lost her mind._

" _Here, take the medicine and then drink the cola. All of it."_

 _The kid nods and does as she says. She takes his pulse and listens to his chest again. After a few minutes, the kid is shaking, but his lips aren't blue anymore and the wheezing sounds are gone. The kid smiles at her when she leans in to wrap his chest._

" _Thank you."_

 _She smiles in response and focuses back on her task. James chuckles and gives the kid a pat on the shoulder._

" _See, Kid? Lucy's the best nurse in the whole damn army! I told you we should go to her!"_

 _Lucy feels the heat crawl up her neck and cheeks. She ducks her head lower and pretends to be hyper focused on the bruising on the kid's ribs. She hadn't meant to draw attention to herself. She had been sent to Midgard to observe the war and ensure that it wouldn't completely destroy the realm, just as she'd done during the previous world war. And if pressed she'd say yes, she'd come to Midgard to help. But she was doing so from a distance where she wouldn't be hurt and she wouldn't be noticed. She needed to lay low. She ignores the way the kid is looking at her and finishes with the bandages._

" _You say that about all the nurses, James."_

 _She stands and turns, gathering up the wrappings to throw them away. James chuckles and nods, the kid weakly chuckling along. As she bends to grab the stethoscope, he swoops down and picks it up, folds it and holds it out to her._

" _But I only called your name, didn't I?"_

* * *

The furniture from his room had been moved into his cell. His favorite books filled the trunk at the foot of his bed and there was plenty of parchment in the drawers of his writing desk. This is something he is sure his mother had a hand in. When he first saw it as he was shoved through the barrier, his heart clenched at Odin's words.

" _You'll never see her again."_

And that was the cruelest punishment. Loki was every bit his mother's child. He wielded Seidr with an unmistakable signature, like her. He learned to use wit and cunning to his advantage, like her. And he was fiercely protective of those he cared about, like her. He noticed she put his family album on the bed. The gesture seemed to say 'if I can't protect you up close, I can make sure you're comfortable from far away." It made his heart swell and ache at the same time. He knows he should be planning his escape, planning how he will evade the Mad Titan, but his thoughts keep replaying those words.

He is more than a little surprised when her apparition visits him. He keeps her at arm's length and safe by spitting harsh words of betrayal at her. She would draw upon all the forces of Asgard if she knew of Thanos. It would not be enough and his beloved Mother would die a meaningless death. He couldn't let that happen. When the conversation turns to his crimes, again he plays the villain, just like Odin wants. And poor Frigga is trapped in the middle. She still looks at him with disappointment.

"What of the lives you took on Earth?"

Loki feels his gut twist with guilt and he decides to shift the focus off of him and back on Odin.

"A handful compared to the number that Odin has taken himself."

"Your father-"

"He's not my father!"

He finds himself speaking the words before he even registers them. When had he become so efficient at casting the old man aside? He focuses on the sad expression on Frigga's face.

"Then am I not your mother?"

 _Yes, you are! I'm sorry, Mother! Please, forgive me!_

"You are not."

She continues to look sadly at him, but chuckles all the same.

"You're always so perceptive about everyone but yourself."

Loki doesn't know what she means by that. He just knows that he wishes he could tell her exactly what was going on. Exactly what was coming. He is sorry. He reaches out to her, wishing he could apologize for denying her, but his fingertips spark as they touch the illusion. His mother's image shimmers gold with Seidr and he is alone again in his cell.

He had felt the Aether long before the guards began talking of its arrival, its power calling to him like something he should remember but couldn't. The whispers of one of the Infinity Stones held by a mortal reached him in his cell and he became uneasy. An Infinity Stone had made its way to the Palace of Asgard. Thanos would surely come for him now.

He had been reading, trying to come up with a solution when the first attacks shook the palace. Loki was sure that this was it; Thanos was here to drag him back to the Void and torture him for his failure. He was more than a little surprised when the first Dark Elves began to filter into the dungeons.

He smiled with glee! What an unexpected turn of events! He watched as the Dark Elves took down guard after guard, some cells opening and their captives spilling out to join the fight. He stood and observed it all, smirking.

So the Dark Elves wanted the Aether. This was very good for him. If the Dark Elves were successful, then it meant taking both the Infinity Stone, and Thanos' attention, off of Asgard. Maybe the need to fulfill his mission would keep the Mad Titan's interest off him. When the great beast that seemed to be leading the attacks steps up to his cell, he meets its eyes. Loki grins at him. The recognition in its eyes turns to disinterest.

"You might want to take the stairs to the left."

The beast turns back to him, regarding him with curiosity. He wonders briefly if the beast will release him from his cell, but is only slightly disappointed as it strides away. It doesn't matter if he is still stuck in this cell. This has bought him some time.

He sits and lets the sounds of the Dark Elves and the Einherjar battling wash over him as he reads up for his plan of escape. When the elves suddenly turn and start running, he knows that they have not succeeded. The guards stay on alert. Clearly the Palace is surrounded. He waits. He wonders what this could possibly have to do with him when the guard walks to his cell.

"The Queen has passed."

The guard's words fill him with an unspeakable rage and he fights to keep from throwing himself at the barrier. From tearing this man's tongue from his mouth and removing his jaw from his skull with his bare hands.

Instead, he nods, knowing who is really responsible. When the guard walks away Loki sets his book down, and stands. His hands clench and in a flash of green Seidr he begins to tear his world apart.

* * *

" _I bet you he drops down on one knee and proposes tonight!"_

 _Anne blushes at Betsy's words and all the girls at the kitchen table chatter as they agree. Lucy sits by the open window, enjoying the breeze, her morning coffee, and the conversation. It is early in the morning and the seven of them are still finishing their breakfast. 'Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree' plays on the radio. Some are fixing their makeup, others still have rollers in their hair. Lucy is dressed and ready for her day, relaxing with a book before her nine-o-clock shift._

 _She listens as the girls chat about the soldiers and navy men, their boyfriends and how they hope to become more. She doesn't partake, in either the gossip or the men. This trip to Midgard she has decided to focus on her work, preferring to observe than to participate. Too many of the girls are getting married, pregnant… How many times had girls come to the hospital 'in the family way' with their man off to war? How much damage is being caused by getting swept up in the excitement of it all? She's seen so many young mothers alone and desperate, all because they met the right man at the wrong time._

" _I don't know…"_

" _Mark my words, you'll be Mrs. Edward Harper by the end of the year!"_

 _There's another round of giggles from everyone but Lucy._

" _You'll have to quit the military."_

 _Someone says the obvious and Anne's smile fades. The conversation seems to die. Betsy puts her cigarette to her lips and her eyes roll over the girls. Lucy keeps her head down and pretends to be deeply fascinated by her book. Betsy was a good nurse but she was a terrible gossip! Lucy's efforts seem to draw Betsy's attention though and the platinum blonde from Queens fixes her with her stare._

" _What about you, Lucy? No man to keep you warm at night?"_

 _Lucy blushes bright red at this and tries to hide her face behind her cup, shaking her head. Betsy won't have any of it and fixes her with a predatory stare, grinning. The rest of the girls are paying attention now and Lucy wishes she could just disappear on the spot. Well, she could, but that would only cause more questions. Betsy claps her hands together and lets out a high-pitched squeal that would be annoying if it weren't her real voice._

" _Oh, I knew it! Saint Lucy has a boyfriend!"_

 _Her efforts to lay low had earned her the nickname, her tendencies not to draw attention confused with her being a prude. If only they knew some of the things she'd done! Not just in her natural body but in others. They would be the ones blushing! She shakes her head, eyes wide and she wishes they would listen, because 'really there isn't anyone!'_

" _No! It's not like that! I don't want to get attached to some soldier who just wants a girl to hold before going to war!"_

 _Betsy isn't having any of it. She brushes her curls back, stands and walks over beside Lucy. She giggles as she wraps an arm around Lucy's shoulders, pulling her in and squeezing her._

" _Oh, I'm sure it's not like that! I'm sure whoever it is, they're a perfect gentleman caller! Nothing but the best for our Saint Lucy!"_

 _Betsy is teasing her now, and if she hadn't known it was all in good fun, she'd probably bop the blonde on the head. Still, it's hard not to. Betsy puts a perfectly manicured finger to her lips in mock thought._

" _Now who could that be? Maybe that nice sergeant that keeps making his way around here and the ward to see you?"_

" _James!"_

 _One of the other girls provides Betsy with his name and Lucy turns to glare at her, her face already on fire. Betsy makes an O with her lips and widens her eyes before looking down at Lucy's horrified face._

 _"Oh, so there is a gentleman caller! James, hmm? What a strong name! Let me guess, you like the strong type? Tell us all what he's like?"_

 _All the girls are laughing and awing, and even going as far as 'Lucy and James, sitting in a tree…' She hands shake a little as she grips her coffee tighter. She looks over at Betsy, who is giggling like a hyena and hugging her shoulders like she has no idea the trouble she's caused. Lucy is unbelievably embarrassed and she can feel the rage bubbling up._

" _LUCY!"_

 _James' voice cuts over the din of laughter and as Lucy closes her eyes in annoyance, she can't help but think things can't get any worse. She wished he would stop screaming her name like that! She was a lady, not a St. Bernard!_

 _She hears James call her name a few more times, getting more urgent the closer it gets. The girls stop to listen and when they recognize the voice begin to giggle all over again. A few of them lift the curtains at the window to watch him approach the boarding house. Lucy puts her cup down and quickly makes her way to the doorway, hoping to head James off and save them both more embarrassment. Betsy grins like the Cheshire cat and takes another drag of her cigarette._

 _"Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear!"_

 _Lucy ignores her and the girls' giggles, and opens the screen door, expecting to see James flashing his usual mischievous grin. She freezes in the doorway when she sees him running at full sprint across the lawn to the door, black hair disheveled and his chocolate eyes wide with fear. His uniform is soaked._

 _"Lucy! They're here! They're bombing! We gotta go!"_

 _When he makes it to the door he is out of breath and Lucy steps off the threshold to keep him upright. He is covered in sea water. He stands straight, breath coming in large puffs and sweat drips down his neck. He looks as though he has seen a ghost._

 _"They're here. The Japanese Air Service, they're here!"_

 _He pushes past them and into the house. The girls follow, Lucy immediately after him as he makes his way to the radio. He turns it off Glenn Miller and adjusts until they hear the emergency broadcast alert. Everyone is silent as they listen, no one daring to look at each other, no one daring to speak. The room is still as the radio crackles and pops before a rushed male voice comes on._

" _Pearl Harbor has been bombed! I repeat! The Japanese have bombed Pearl Harbor-"_

 _The screen door slams shut and Lucy is off running._

* * *

Loki sat peacefully at his writing desk, working on some document or another, seeming completely unfazed by the news he had just received. At least that was what it looked like from the exterior of the cell. The Glamour was simple out of necessity, as it took a great deal of concentration to project a whole room and Loki was definitely not concentrating at the moment.

The furniture had been tossed in all directions, several pieces broken. Sheets were ripped and papers and books scattered the floor. At some point he'd upturned his breakfast tray and stepped in something, trailing blood-like footprints around the white cell.

He was a mess himself, sweaty and flushed in anger. He raked his fingers through his hair and screamed, pacing back and forth. He should have been there! He should have protected her! It was becoming unclear who that 'her' was. Was it Frigga? That sounded right, but he'd failed so many before!

He casts mirages of his family members; Frigga, ever present and in the foreground, then Emily, Ami, James, Embla, Allan, the list goes on. He sobs as he thinks about what he'd done to Jotunheim, of Laufey. Gods, he really was a monster, driving a spear through his own blood. He thought of all the people screaming as they died on the streets of New York. His mind conjures a million painful ways in which his mother has died.

It overwhelms him.

Thor shows up like salt in a wound and he is happy to sit there and let his brother chat with his Glamour. He is surprised when Thor sees through the illusion almost instantly. He doesn't think Thor knew him well enough. He doesn't move from his spot on the floor when he lets the Glamour drop, too exhausted after his tantrum to move.

"Now you see me, brother. Did she suffer?"

He's afraid of the answer and is half glad that Thor doesn't give one. The expression on Thor's face is serious and he wonders if he has come to see if he had involvement in Frigga's death. He wonders if he would admit so. Loki is not expecting Thor to negotiate.

"I know you seek vengeance as much as I do. You help me escape Asgard, and I will grant it to you. Vengeance. And afterward, this cell."

It was one hell of a plea bargain. It doesn't get him off the hook for his crimes, but he gets to kill Malekith. He can attempt to escape while out, and even if that doesn't work he can still figure out how to do so later. And if all went well, Thor would take the Infinity Stone off of Asgard to some other realm. It was so tempting. But there had to be a catch, there was always a catch. He chuckles.

"You must truly be desperate to come to me for help. What makes you think you can trust me."

"I don't. Mother did. You should know that when we fought each other in the past, I did so with a glimmer of hope that my brother was still in there somewhere. That hope no longer exists to protect you. You betray me, and I will kill you."

Loki wonders if this isn't true. Thor has always been sentimental. It is why he tried to save him on the Bifrost, tried to save him during the invasion. He also knows that Thor holds a grudge against those who hurt his comrades, and he certainly has a new group of those. It's a coin toss, but Loki likes his odds.

"When do we start?"

* * *

 _She runs until her lungs burn and every breath comes with a gasp. She runs until her legs are numb and are moving out of sheer will. She runs until she can feel her heartbeat in her teeth and hear it rushing in her ears. She runs until she reaches the hospital._

 _She has never actually been to a modern Midgardian battlefield, but she imagines this is what it would look like. The hospital is being overrun with patients, the wounded being offloaded truck by truck and the piles of bodies are growing. Men are screaming and crying for their mothers like children. She can smell burning flesh and there is blood everywhere. She fights to not vomit and dashes through the entrance into the ward._

 _It is worse inside. Every bed and wheelchair is full, nurses and doctors are running everywhere, and suddenly the cabinets seem so empty. A group of navy men hold their comrade down as the doctors work on him, trying to operate. She doesn't understand why they don't put the poor bastard out when she realizes that there is no anesthetic left, or if there is there isn't time to grab it._

 _This time she is sick and when she wipes her mouth on the back of her shaking hand, she fights to center herself. This is the very reason she came to Midgard during the war. She had just finished studying human medicine, she needed to put it to use. She needed to help. She was a Prince of Asgard, damn it! She would act like it!_

 _Lucy shrugs her sweater off and presses it as a dressing against the bleeding chest wound of a private nearby. His terrified blue eyes stare up at her and look far too bright for his face with it covered in mud and blood. She gives him what she hopes is a reassuring smile. There is a sergeant sitting next to him with a broken wrist and she directs him to hold pressure on the private's wound with his good hand. She moves to the next patient, then the next, then the next. She sees the faces of some men she knew by acquaintance, some she didn't know at all. She didn't see James._

 _Still, more are coming._

 _For three days and two nights, Lucy does not stop. She helps dress wounds and set broken bones. She cleans burns and comforts those who are too weak to comfort themselves. She rarely eats and seldom sleeps. She works until they run out of supplies and start using whatever they can find. She works until every patient is seen to and then she begins again. She works until the only things they pull out of the wreckage are corpses._

* * *

The adventure out of the palace is… slapdash at best. Loki is sure that Hogun, Volstagg and the Lady Sif will no longer be a viable source for aid in the future. Fandral surprises him by being the first not to threaten his life. Loki wonders if the times he graced the man's bed in his youth have anything to do with this, or if the man is just being loyal to Thor. Perhaps later he may cash in on a favor from him.

Jane Foster, however, is a totally different creature completely. While he liked her grit at punching him upon meeting him (he did appreciate strong women), he couldn't help but think that this really wasn't the time. He waved it off though, not seeing the point of wasting more time by fighting. After making their way to a ship that had collided with the palace and getting thrown rather haphazardly into an airboat, the group breaks off so that Jane, Thor and Loki are left.

It is now that Loki holds up his end of the bargain. He takes hold to steer and the airboat reacts to hands as if it is a living thing being guided by its master. They bob and weave between ships and shots, Jane looking a little green and Thor struggling to hang on. Loki grins, feeling like a bird set free from its cage to spread its wings.

When the danger is over and they are able to go at a more leisurely pace, Loki takes the time to properly look at Jane. She is curled up and sleeping, and when she shifts just so Loki's heart nearly stops. She looks like Embla!

He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, willing the throbbing at his temples to go away. No, he can't think of his first mortal wife now. He drops his hand and looks back up, thinking that her hair is just a little too brown to be Embla's when a shimmer of red along Jane's skin catches his attention. The Aether is traveling along her veins, unsure of what to do with its relatively weak human host. She is dying.

Thor is looking at her with an unmistakable expression that he knows all too well. He's felt the emotions behind it dozens of times.

"Say goodbye."

Thor looks up at him, then to Jane and shakes his head. He probably thinks him the cruelest of beasts for implying he abandon her.

"Not this day!"

"This day, the next, a hundred years, it's nothing! It's a heartbeat! You'll never be ready. The only woman whose love you prized will be snatched from you."

And they were the only women. For that time when Loki loved Ami, she was the only woman. When he loved Julia, she was the only woman. The same with Embla, and Mary, and Charlotte. And when he loved Ross and Raj, they were the only men. Loki devoted the lives he lived then to those partners, exclusively, for as long as they had lived. He still aches for them; every one of them, every day.

"And would that satisfy you?"

Had the great lumbering oaf not been listening? How would Thor losing his love satisfy any of what he yearned for? It would not bring his families back. It would not get Thanos off his trail. It would not wipe out the red in his ledger. It made him shake his head.

"Satisfaction is not in my nature."

"Surrender is not in mine."

Loki watches as Thor sits and sighs, wondering not for the first time if he can rely on him when they get to Svardelfheim.

* * *

 _The streets were nearly vacant as Lucy made her way home to the boarding house. She had been working double shifts to help the hospital cope, and so she was exhausted. She meandered along, dragging her feet slightly as she fought to keep her eyes open after a long shift._

 _It had been a week since the attack, and though the initial destruction was over, the hospital was still full to bursting. The girls were constantly spotting each other so they could go home to bathe, eat, sleep a few hours and make it back to the hospital. Occasionally the nurses got word that their men were okay. More often than not they weren't. Lucy didn't hear anything, and kept telling herself that she didn't have reason to._

 _A hand grabs her arm above the elbow and her scream is cut off as another clamps over her mouth. She begins to kick and fight as someone much stronger than her begins to drag her into a nearby alley. A mugger? Or worse! Adrenaline sings through her veins. 'Stupid girl! Stupid, stupid, you should have paid attention!' She thinks that this couldn't be happening when she hears a hushing noise in her ear._

" _Hey, Lucy! Calm down, it's me! It's James, be quiet, would'ya?"_

 _She stops struggling when she meets his eyes and feels his grip slacken. Staring down at her with a concerned look is James, his grip tight on her as he pressed her against the alley wall. She pulls his hand off her mouth and smacks him hard on the chest._

 _"Why would you do that! You scared the hell out of me!"_

 _He puts his fingers to his lips and shushes her. She struggles not to hit him again for that and swallows against the lump in her throat that she was pretty sure was her heart. He glances up and down the alley before he looks back at her._

" _They are arresting anyone they think is involved with the attacks. They've rounded up most of the people in Little Japan… Lucy, they think I'm a suspect! They think I'm involved with what happened!"_

 _Lucy watches as he begins to panic, shaking as he looks up and down the alley again. She'd read the newspapers, heard the broadcasts on the radio. Anyone who was Japanese or suspected of being loyal was being 'relocated.' She didn't know exactly what that meant, but she had a strong feeling. She grips James' arms, trying to get him to calm down._

" _You're an American citizen though! Show them your birth certificate! And your military records! They can't hold you if they can't prove anything."_

 _James is shaking his head now, a tear streaking his face as he looks down at her. He shifts and she frowns, wondering what could be so bad about that._

" _My mother was pregnant with me when my parents came to America. She gave birth at home, and never registered my birth."_

 _Lucy blinked. That didn't make sense. You had to show proof of identity to enlist. Unless… She gulps and speaks in a low tone._

 _"And your military records?"_

 _James slides his hands up to her shoulders, gripping tight as if to keep her there._

" _I knew a guy in the recruitment office. He owed me a favor."_

 _Lucy closed her eyes and groaned. Of all the stupid things to do! She knew people falsified records to get into the military all the time (the security was really very flimsy and Lucy had her papers ready in two hours), but this could cost James much more than his rank. She was practically shaking when she looked up at him again and she growls, tears overflowing as she pictures him dragged off to a work camp._

" _Why would you do that? Why would you lie?"_

 _She realizes the irony in that statement, the hypocrisy, but she doesn't care. She causes mischief, little jokes where people may come away annoyed or angry, but certainly not hurt. At least, never intentionally. But lying as a way to get the chance to die? Where was the logic in that?_

 _It was something she never understood about the stories her Father told and Thor so adored. Rushing off to war to die for freedom she couldn't understand. Fighting to keep an enemy at bay made sense. But the war had only recently come home, and James had so much to live for. This didn't make sense!_

" _You could be with your sister! You could be at home instead of dragging bodies out of wreckage and wondering when the next air strike will be!"_

 _James is watching her as she practically sobs all this out to him, her fear and exhaustion fueling her rant as tears streak her face._

" _Do you really want to die that badly? Is it really so important to run off to war and die?! For what, honor?!"_

 _James doesn't answer her, still holding her arms tightly and staring at her like…_ that _. Like he's disappointed her. She looks down at her hands fisted in his uniform (when had that happened?) and she can't decide if it's to push him away or pull him closer. She decides on the second and wraps her arms around his neck in a hug. He hugs her back like he'd wanted to do this the whole time. It is fraternal in nature, comforting and he holds her tightly until her sobs die. Then in a small voice, she hears him whisper._

" _For my sister."_

 _Lucy sighs and when she pulls back from his embrace, she sees the sadness and regret in his eyes. She knows because she has felt it too. James reaches inside his uniform and pulls out an envelope._

" _Will you get this to her? It's a letter explaining everything. I can't risk sending it myself if I'm on the run."_

 _Lucy takes the envelope and nods. He gives her a quick kiss on the cheek and steps back, bowing low. Lucy's heart clenches at the sign of respect and tears streak her cheeks again. When he straightens his face is almost hard as stone, but his eyes are rimmed with tears and his lip quivers._

" _Sayonara, Onesan."_

 _She doesn't answer him, her voice choked in her throat. He straightens and when he sees her face she can tell he knows she will miss him. He gives a nod and takes off running down the alleyway. She stares at the spot in the dark where he disappeared, wishing the best for her brother._

* * *

In between the pages of an old book, tucked among photos and wedding rings, lies unopened a tattered old envelope stamped with the words "Return to Sender."

* * *

"Malekith! I am Loki, of Jotunheim, and I bring you a gift!"

As he pulls Jane forward and drops her at Malekith's feet, he can see the betrayal in Thor's eyes from where he lies on the ground. Loki doesn't address it, focusing on the Dark Elf, who is looking at him with curiosity. He grins and continues his show.

"I only ask one thing in return… A good seat from which to watch Asgard burn."

He watches as Kurse bends to mutter in Malekith's ear. _Come on, take the bait, take the bait!_ The Dark Elf seems intrigued and gives an almost imperceptible nod. Loki grins as Malekith steps forward to Thor, sneering down at his brother in the dirt. He slowly raises his hand, as if gesturing for someone to stand, and Jane is lifted from the ground and suspended spread-eagle in the air. Red shimmering smoke is pulled from her as the Aether is drawn out of her veins, hanging suspended in the air. Jane collapses to the ground and Malekith stares at the Infinity Stone in awe.

Together, Thor and Loki move forward in a flash of magic and strength. Loki practically jumps on Jane, shielding her with his body as he removes the Glamour from Thor. His hand is revealed as Mjolnir is summoned and Malekith is knocked backward. There is a shuffle and the Aether drops to the ground like shards of crystals. As Loki looks around he briefly thinks it is beautiful, powerful, and his Seidr reaches out to it as if drawn to it. He blinks and fights to resist it, knowing full-well what an Infinity Stone does to a mind.

Malekith does not resist and steps forward, drawing the Aether into himself. When he opens his eyes, Loki can see that the stone has taken over the elf, the power that flows through those veins and knows what the Dark Elf could do with it. But at least Jane is alive.

Malekith turns to leave, Kurse stepping forward. Thor stands and swings Mjolnir after the Dark Elf. There is a scuffle between them and a fight ensues. Loki stands, ready to do his part when he sees an object fly towards them. He knows what spell that particular glow means and he pushes Jane away from himself.

Loki has barely taken a step when the portal opens and his feet are dragged out from underneath him. He was too close and not fast enough! He struggles, almost swimming in midair against the vacuum pulling him in and his mind is filled with images of the Void.

 _No, not the Void! Not again! Anything but that!_

Panic starts to take over and he can feel the portal drawing him in when something solid collides with him and he is slammed into the ground. He opens his eyes to see Thor and is surprised that he'd bother, but more relieved that he'd escaped the clutches of the Void.

The relief is short-lived and the two stand, surrounded by opponents. Thor follows Malekith to the ship, determined to get the Aether back. Loki focuses on the elves surrounding him, and as his heart pounds he can't help but think how this was just like old times; his brother running after some old relic or another and Loki covering his back. It would almost make him chuckle if the situation weren't so dire.

The elves circle him like wolves circling their prey and he adjusts his dagger in his hand. It has been so long since he'd last held them that he briefly doubts himself. The first elf steps forward and before he can think the dagger has slashed through flesh and the elf drops. His muscles remember what his mind forgot and he lets his body take over, swiftly turning and blocking. What he lacks in strength he makes up for in speed and agility.

The last elf falls and he turns to find that Thor is thoroughly being beaten by Kurse. He quietly sneaks forward, picking up a sharp piece of debris as he goes. Kurse is standing above Thor, ready to deliver the final blow when Loki strikes. He drives the shard of metal through the monster's chest and watches as it turns to him, confused. He stares it down, satisfied.

He shouldn't have gotten so cocky.

Kurse tilts his head and before Loki can move, he is grabbed and pulled forward. The metal pierces his armor and his chest is split open as the metal slices into him. The pain is unlike anything he's felt before and though he can already feel his Seidr fizzle to life to aid him, he thought he just might die this time.

When Kurse pushes him back and he falls to the ground, he groans as the impact knocks what little air he had from his lungs. He presses his hand to the gaping hole just below his sternum and looks up as Kurse steps towards him, gasping. Loki watches him with the utmost hatred for the creature, this beast that killed his mother. He thinks of Frigga, of the last words he said to her. At least she would be avenged.

"See you in hell, monster."

Loki almost grins when Kurse sees the portal generator stuck to his belt. He scrambles to get it off, but it is too late. It activates and Kurse is sucked into the portal, twisting his body into itself until there is nothing there but space.

Satisfied that it's over, Loki collapses back onto the ground, gasping for breath as his chest fills with blood. He can feel it pressing on his lungs and heart, and knows that soon his Seidr would put him out to heal the damage. But the familiar tingle of magic at his fingertips isn't there. He can feel the Seidr in his veins, but it is weak and flickering. What little magic he can control he directs to his wounds. His body drains of energy and he can feel himself grow tired and weak.

Thor is suddenly there, muttering 'no' over again and Loki is drawn into strong arms. He feels like he's a kid again, though he would never say so, and that he is being held by his big brother like when he was scared. He looks up at Thor. There are tears in his eyes and realizes that what Thor had said all that time ago may have been true. He really did mourn when Loki fell.

"You fool, you didn't listen!"

Loki has to agree.

"I know… I'm a fool, I'm a fool."

He was a fool for denying Thor. He was a fool for letting go of Gungnir. He was a fool for believing Thanos. The list went on and on! He agrees with his brother, not knowing what Thor is talking about but really, did it matter at this point?

"Stay with me, okay?"

Loki is having difficulty focusing. He can feel the slow stitching of his flesh as is weaves itself back together, but it is sluggish. There is too much damage. He thinks about what Thor is saying and wonders if Thor thinks he is dying. What would be the harm in that?

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

He starts apologizing, not knowing for what again and it is another long list. Thor looks down at him like his heart is breaking. Loki feels somewhat guilty, and a little sad, but he lets the lie play itself out. It was better this way. Jane is alive. It is the only gift Loki can give Thor. Thor is shushing him.

"It's all right. I will tell Father what you did here today."

Loki can feel his Seidr drawing him under. His vision is becoming dark and he struggles to focus when Thor's words process in his mind. Odin had nothing to do with this. He told himself that the old man meant nothing. When he hears Jane shuffle behind him, he is reminded why he did such a foolish thing. Thor will not feel that loneliness.

"I didn't do it for him."

His wounds and his Seidr take over and the last thing Loki sees before he goes under is the look of despair on his brother's face.


End file.
